An Old Lady And Easter Service

James Gabriel sat at his desk, his hands gripping the edge as he shifted slightly in his chair. The smooth, cool surface of the butt plug nestled deep inside him sent a shiver of pleasure up his spine. He clenched his muscles, feeling the plug press against his sensitive walls, and bit back a low groan. Oh, God, it felt so good, too good. He shouldn’t be doing this, not here, not now. But the forbidden thrill of it, the way the plug stretched him just enough to make his cock throb with need, was impossible to resist.

He rocked his hips subtly, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through him. His breath hitched, and he quickly picked up a pen, pretending to focus on the sermon notes in front of him. The words blurred on the page as another wave of heat coursed through his body. The plug shifted inside him, the tip brushing against that sweet spot that made his toes curl. Sweet Jesus, he thought, his cock twitching in response. He shifted again, this time more deliberately, pressing the plug deeper. A soft moan escaped his lips, and he froze, glancing at the door. No one had heard him, thank God.

The office was quiet, the only sound the faint tick of the clock on the wall. James allowed himself to relax slightly, his hand moving to rest on his thigh. He squeezed his legs together, the pressure against the plug sending another spike of pleasure through him. He could feel his cock straining against his pants, **** for attention, but he ignored it. This wasn’t about that. This was about the forbidden pleasure of having something inside him, about the way it made him feel, dominant and submissive all at once.

He leaned back in his chair, his hips jutting forward slightly as he pressed the plug even deeper. A soft gasp escaped his lips, and he bit down on his lower lip to stifle it. His heart raced, the thrill of doing something so wrong, so sinful, sending a rush of heat through him. He clenched around the plug again, savoring the way it filled him, the way it made him feel so complete.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway made him freeze. He sat up straight, his eyes darting to the door. Please, God, don’t let anyone come in, he prayed silently. But his prayer went unanswered as the door creaked open, and a familiar face appeared.

“Pastor Gabriel?” Mrs. Henderson, a sweet, elderly woman in her late seventies, peered into the office, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. “Do you have a moment to talk about the Easter service?”

James **** a smile, his heart pounding in his chest. “Of course, Mrs. Henderson. Please, come in.”

She shuffled into the room, her cane tapping lightly against the floor. James gestured to the chair across from his desk, his movements stiff as he tried to ignore the plug pressing insistently against his sweet spot. Mrs. Henderson settled into the chair with a soft sigh, her hands resting on the handle of her cane.

“I was thinking,” she began, her voice soft but steady, “that perhaps we could add a few more hymns this year. The congregation seemed to enjoy them last Easter, and I think it would be a lovely way to celebrate the resurrection.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” James replied, his voice tight. He shifted slightly in his chair, his hips moving just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through him. He bit down on his lip, his hands gripping the edge of the desk to keep himself steady. Focus, he told himself. Just focus.

“And perhaps we could have the children’s choir sing during the service as well,” Mrs. Henderson continued, oblivious to the war raging inside him. “They’ve been practicing so hard, and it would be a shame not to let them shine.”

“Yes, absolutely,” James managed to say, his voice strained. He clenched his muscles again, the plug shifting inside him, and a soft moan escaped his lips. He quickly covered it with a cough, his face flushing with heat. Mrs. Henderson gave him a concerned look.

“Are you feeling alright, Pastor? You look a bit flushed.”

“I’m fine,” James said quickly, forcing another smile. “Just a bit under the weather, that’s all.”

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and continued talking about the service. James tried to focus, he really did, but the plug pressing against his sweet spot was making it nearly impossible. Every word she said was drowned out by the roaring in his ears, the intense pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. He shifted again, the movement deliberate, and a soft gasp escaped his lips.

Mrs. Henderson paused, her brow furrowing. “Are you sure you’re alright, Pastor? You seem… distracted.”

“I’m fine,” James repeated, his voice tight. He clenched his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep himself under control. Just keep it together, he told himself. Just a little longer.

She studied him for a moment, her gaze sharp, and James held his breath, praying she wouldn’t notice the sweat beading on his forehead or the way his hands trembled. Finally, she nodded, apparently satisfied, and returned to her discussion about the service.

James listened as best as he could, his body on fire as the plug continued to press against his sweet spot. Every movement, no matter how slight, sent waves of pleasure through him, and he was barely able to keep himself from moaning aloud. His cock throbbed in his pants, **** for attention, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the conversation in front of him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mrs. Henderson stood, her cane tapping lightly against the floor. “Well, I think that’s everything,” she said, smiling warmly. “Thank you for your time, Pastor. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Of course,” James replied, his voice tight. He stood as well, his legs trembling slightly as he gripped the edge of the desk for support. “I’ll see you then.”

Mrs. Henderson gave him a nod before turning and shuffling out of the office, the door clicking shut behind her. James let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his body sagging with relief. He collapsed back into his chair, his hips jerking forward as the plug shifted inside him. A low moan escaped his lips, and he clamped a hand over his mouth, his eyes darting to the door. She’s gone, he reminded himself. She’s gone.

He shifted again, his hips moving of their own accord as he pressed the plug deeper. A shudder ran through him, and he bit down on his lip to stifle another moan. His cock throbbed in his pants, **** for release, but he ignored it, focusing instead on the intense pleasure coursing through him. He leaned back in his chair, his hips rocking gently as he savored the feeling of the plug pressing against his sweet spot.